Shenanigans in the Doctor’s Office ~ Brian Connolly

uzz Lightyear. Balloons. And babies.

What do the three of these things have in common? They all start with the letter “B”. Also, they were all present with me in my doctor’s waiting room.

It would be best if I explained.

Right?

I think so.

You see, a few weeks ago I had a regular physical scheduled—well, I don’t know how ‘regular’ it was; I hadn’t had one of these in years. And if I knew that a conniving little assistant, a person determined to drag my pale body into the office, was on the other end of the phone, I never would have answered the bloody thing. But, queserasera. The fates conspire as they may.

To be honest, doctors creep me out. (I know, not the most original of predilections—amiright? It’s like saying that astronauts and fireman instill me with a sense of boyish wonder.) Something about them, though, unsettles me. Like a greasy salesman, trying to slip through the cracks of life. Part of me believes that they only took up the profession to evade the jinx of ill health, because who ever heard of a doctor getting sick? It’s the perfect charm to ward off bodily bad fortune.

But the Powers That Be want me to go to see my doctor? Fine, I guess I’ll go then.

On a rather overcast afternoon, I slipped into my Malibu and sped over to my physician’s. On the way I tried to keep myself occupied. This was accomplished by nibbling on an apple. (I didn’t smoke, as I wanted to appear presentable to those who would be examining me. Nothing says that less than by smelling like Chicago after the Great Fire).

Two blocks away from the building, I stopped at a light. As a cat plays with a mouse, so too did the light play with me—it batted my expectations this way and that—green, yellow, red, green, no turn on left, fuck!

Eventually I made the turn. During the final leg of my journey Stairway to Heaven played on the radio. This doesn’t bode well, I thought. I parked my car and approached the door. While doing this, I mentally parsed out my meager possessions, due to—or so I thought—my soon-to-be corpse-like state. Who am I going to leave with all my shitty writings?

On my way to the door I spotted a cat. It was most likely a stray. “Hello, cat,” I hailed. He—or she—looked at me with dead eyes, in an attempt to intimidate me. “Hey, fuck you cat!”

I entered. The stale artificial air hit me. Something else too struck me as odd. But I could not quite place what it was.

Sauntering up to the main desk, I made myself known to the receptionist. She was nice. I think I made her laugh about something or another. After confirming my appointment, I turned around and took stock of my surroundings. And that’s when it dawned on me: this was a pediatrician’s office!

The colorful assortment of effin’ cartoon characters on the walls confirmed this.

I walked back up to the same receptionist. This time I did my best to speak in a deep, adult, voice, while at the same time making emphasis to my old man blazer getup. I asked her “why in God’s name was I in a medical facility for children?” I felt like I was in that scene in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, when Jason Segal gets his penis examined while on a toy fire truck.

Responding calmly, she told me that due to the current economic climate, the pediatrician in question and his brother—he ran the adult facility—combined resources. Oh, great. Lollipops for everyone! And I mean that in the most literal way—there were lollipops on hand.

So I sat on a tiny red chair and waited to be called.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take all that long.

I sat my ass down on the noisy meatpacking paper and did some more waiting. The door in my room was open a smidge and I noticed a patient exiting. He was in a suit. Suddenly it didn’t feel so weird being here.

It took about five minutes, but in walked my doctor. I soon noticed that she wasn’t one of the brothers—the primary clue being that she was a she. Large offices like this have many practicing MDs on staff, so I really wasn’t too taken aback. My mind definitely does wander, but it’s not like I thought she killed the fraternal duo and took over their practice.

Though, what a story that’d be—doctors are suppose to be comfortable around blood, right?

Anyway, we went through the laundry list of questions. She expressed concern at my low weight, but continued rattling off the standard enquiries. Then she asked, “Do you work out?”

Primarily due to boredom and that I like to get a rise out of people, I facetiously replied, “You tell me.”

“So…no.”

I smiled and said, “Actually, I have some fifteen pound free weights in my room.” I paused for a moment. “I call ‘em fifteen-pounders.”

She may have grinned at that; I can’t remember. But she wrote something down all the same. My guess is that she scribbled, “Lifts ‘weights’—maybe?”

Finally, wrapping up our little session she ordered some blood work done. As if remembering a long forgotten fact, she shuffled through my history. “What college do you go to again?”

“Rutgers.”

“I’ll add some STD tests then.”

I always am very proud of my university’s legacy. At least she didn’t ask me about the football team.

I left, happy I was still alive. For the time being, my skeletal shell of a body remains ticking.

When I returned to my car, I noticed the half-eaten apple from earlier. I picked it up and examined the variety of teeth marks on its surface—they were like acne, but on food. Does that mean it was blemished, unfit to be eaten, or more human-like and fit for praise? At the time I didn’t care. Riding high on my bill of good health, I threw it out the window, where it surprisingly landed in a trashcan.

Afterwards, I lit a cigarette.

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Inside JVP: An Interview with Dan Bracaglia by Ben Kharakh

If a picture’s worth a thousand words, then a prize or two wouldn’t do their quality any justice. Although I doubt that sentiment makes Dan Bracaglia think any less of all the critical praise and awards his photography has earned him throughout the years. Whether it’s with the Targum, his photoblogs, or elsewhere, Dan’s web and print presence makes an indelible impression: this guy is going places. And in this Q and A, JVP’s former photography editor looks back on where he’s going, where he’s at, and the path he’s been on along the way.

What brought you to Rutgers?

What brought me to Rutgers? Well I guess I was technically brought to Rutgers by my Mom’s minivan on a rainy August day back in 2006.

For real though: I went to Rutgers because it was the first school I applied to and the first school I got accepted to.  After that I said to myself, “Fuck it, I don’t want to be bothered filling out any more of these bullshit applications that ask me to sum up my aspirations and life”, I mean fuck I was eighteen years old, I don’t have a clue what I am doing with my life now, how the fuck did they expect me at eighteen to know that shit.  Not to mention the fact that I put in absolutely no effort (ok maybe a little effort) in high school. Well, I mean, I got by with straight B’s, but in high school, that’s no effort, regardless of whether it’s an AP class or not. So, Rutgers was pretty much my best option; and I sure as hell wasn’t going Ivy League (my parents told me my choices were a state school or Ivy League).

Also it should be noted that my mother attended Rutgers and dragged me to the college tour.  All I remember from it was that Cheese Whiz had been invented at Rutgers. That was enough for me; I was sold.

How’d you decide on your major(s)?

I knew I was going to major in journalism before I applied to Rutgers.  I always loved story telling, especially through visuals. It was a no brainer.  Funny story: I almost didn’t make it into the journalism school because I got a C in the very first journalism intro class that I took, which was also a prerequisite to applying to the school.  You needed a B in the class to apply. I had to take a Library Studies course instead.  I wrote some b/s paper about how the Segway was a complete failure (not sure now how that was related to the study of libraries).  However, I never got anything lower than a B+ after that class in the journalism major.

When and how did you develop and interest in photography/politics/journalism? How did you explore these interests growing up?

Photography is my passion.  I am lucky that I figured out what makes me happy at an early age.  Unfortunately what makes me happy isn’t exactly the most lucrative thing in the world.  As for politics, both my parents are lawyers and I was raised to, naturally, be political.  I minored in political science at Rutgers and actually only needed to take one more class to make it a double major, but refused to because it was some garbage intro class.  My parents think that was a bad decision; I think, who the fuck cares what you majored in? As of recently I have temporarily written all things political out of my life, including voting.

As for photography, I started a badass monthly “Zine” in high school called Dan’s Zine (yeah I was pretty vein).  To this day I am still trying to relive the glory of my high school days.  All I did every day after school was go out skateboarding with my friends, shoot photos, write obnoxious stories, and interview bands.  The zine lasted three years and we published 35 issues.  I had a sandwich named after me at my local town deli.  Like I said: the glory days.

What sort of aspirations did you have growing up and which of these, if any, are you putting the most effort into making a reality?

Growing up I wanted to be a rock and roll star.  I wanted all the girls to throw their panties at me when I walked down the street.  I wanted all the guys to be like, “I wish I was him”.  This is still my dream.  I want to be Bob Dylan.  He is a god to me. He is the most unexpected, shot in the dark, shit on your head dude ever.  I would love to shit on everyone’s head.

For real though, my dream is to own my own highly successful, highly controversial, super cool company, which I have complete creative control over.  I do well when I work for me.

What am I doing to accomplish this?  Gaining experience and knowledge and waiting.  I am like an assassin waiting on top of a building patiently until the moment is right to go in for the kill. That was fucking corny and untrue actually.  I am more like a dude trying to live his dream and make the right connections and gain the right knowledge first.

I just want to have complete control over my own destiny and be able to do positive things in my own way without anyone telling me what to do.

My real dream growing up was always to win a Pulitzer Prize for my photography.  If I could do anything with my time, I would photograph things that matter and change public opinion for the better through my images.  I feel I was born a slightly better than average photographer.  Photography was the first thing I realized I was good at (there were probably about 500 things I learned I wasn’t good at before discovering photography).  It would be a shame to not use my talents for positivity.  I truly believe in the power of humanity.

How did you change over the course of your time at Rutgers?

I changed a lot at Rutgers, although many of those changes are not ones I want to publish on the Internet, like the copious amounts of drugs I ingested—kidding!

My experience at Rutgers did exactly what a college education should do: It expanded my mind, taught me a lot about mysely– my strengths and weaknesses, the world around me, and the people around me.  I am very grateful for my education.

What have you been up to since leaving RU?

Since leaving RU I got into grad school, withdrew from grad school and took a job as the Associate Online Editor at Popular Photography Magazine.  I am currently working on nearly a dozen personal creative projects.  I have a live stop action short film in the works that I am real excited about.

How’d you become involved in the JVP?

Mike Stu got me in JVP way at the beginning when it was still a concept.  Despite my long-term affiliation, I have let JVP down far more times than the amount of times I did worthwhile things for it.  Although the photos that appeared with my Chris Dagget piece did win a New Jersey Press Association General News Photography Award (although they won for the identical images printed in the Targum).

In closing, follow your dreams. You can do anything you want, as long as you’re not a total bum.

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JVP Speaks: What is Civic Duty?

Project Civility is in full swing at Rutgers, whether you noticed it or not. The initiative’s aim is to get people to ask questions about what it means to be part of a community, about how people should treat one another, and what can be done to improve the quality of people’s treatment of others. Of course, the whole initiative is voluntary rather than mandatory, which means that, chances are, one likely won’t be prompted to participate in Project Civility in one’s day to day. At the very least, I’ve yet to be prompted, so I figured that I’d prompt myself and my fellow JVPers to participate in Project Civility with this week’s question: Should America have a notion of civic duty if it doesn’t already? Why or why not? If so, what should it entail?

Alex Giannattasio: Civic duty is the moral imperative that members of society actively protect the rights of society as a whole. There are many ways to fulfill this duty, one of which, for instance, is voting. By collectively engaging in the democratic process, our society as a group agrees to work out its differences peacefully in exchange for giving everyone a voice. This in turn sets a baseline for the group’s peaceful coexistence to stand upon, thus preserving the basic rights of every individual.

But voting is not the only way to engage one’s civic duty. Voting takes such a small effort that the possible impact per person is diluted anywhere from hundreds to millions of times over. A more active way to meet one’s civic duty is to work in one’s local community to improve the quality of life of the most needy, and to just improve it in some valuable way. We as a nation are in fact living up to this now: community engagement in America is at very high levels, with 111 million Americans volunteering their time in the past 12 months and 60 million volunteering on a regular basis. The Future of American Power by Joseph S. Nye, Jr., Foreign Affairs, Vol. 89, No. 6, at 10. Community engagement bears a much bigger impact per person and improves the quality of the community in which you live. In the short term, this kind of civic participation can be much more valuable to a nation as a whole, because it translates into social improvement at an extremely efficient cost.

Michael Stuzynski: Americans have a sense of civic duty because after over 200 years people are still somewhat conscious of the concept of the Revolutionary War. The fact that people fought and died for your right to vote, among other things, is everywhere in culture, and is reiterated with every new war that our country fights. It’s less a sense of a duty and more a sense of a responsibility that is owed to the respectful remembrance of people from the past. But it’s also pretty cool that you can be responsible for firing the leader of the free world, and all of his oafish minions.

Jhoany Benitez: When I first read this question, I was immediately going to answer “Yes, definitely. It’s your right, so, why not? People in Cuba wish they could make a difference.” But then I opted to put some real thinking into my answer and ended up completely changing my mind. So my real answer is No. I think that the United States shouldn’t have a notion of civic duty. Why? Because people should not be forced to do something. Voting, to be exact. “It’s your right as a citizen!” Does this mean that I have to run out and vote—even if I don’t even know who I’m voting for? That’s why I changed my mind. Because I remembered hearing from friends who opted not to vote because they knew nothing about the people running.

Also, let’s say that you hate Republicans…but you don’t even know who’s running for either party. Does that mean that you’re going to vote for whoever’s representing the Democratic party even if you know nothing about them? This is where the notion of civic duty fails. I think it’s better to not vote than to shove down people’s throat the belief that it’s their “civic duty” to vote and have them vote blindly. So I say No to civic duty. Vote because you care, not because someone’s telling you to do so.

Dave Imbriaco: To me, civic duty is what is expected of a citizen in return for living within a system that allows them certain rights and freedoms – the RESPONSIBILITIES that come with those freedoms, if you will. There was a point in this country not too long ago when everyone who took high school social studies classes learn not only about how government works but how they must also actively participate in it. This seems to have all but died in our modern education, which is a tragedy of epic proportions. The mantra of a good social studies class went that it creates not only good students but good citizens. Also, it wouldn’t be called our “duty” if it was an easy thing to do. It sucks to choose between a giant douche and a turd sandwich, but you, as a citizen, still have the duty to make that choice because you live in a democracy. There are countless other ways you can get involved in a democracy but this is the most basic of all. /rambling.

Billal Ahmed: I find it interesting that while young people often have no problem condemning strict notions of what it means to be a good Muslim or Christian as a danger to global security, they hesitate to criticize civic duty for the same reasons. I have no problem with the idea of improving a nation through the idea of civic duty, whether through volunteering, teaching, building, etc. However, I blame civic duty for the prevalence of worrisome nationalism which inevitably begins to infringe on the rights of others. Civic duty easily leads to civic elitism, which reinforces the notion that a particular nation is special and requires extremely lamentable acts to be carried out in order to preserve that status. One could argue that civic duty is a fundamental motivation for the vigilante bands currently patrolling the United States border with Mexico. One could also argue that civic duty lead to the vengeance-fueled invasion of Afghanistan nine years ago with Operation Anaconda, which was blinded by passion and thus badly disorganized. Civic duty is excellent under the same conditions that religious zealotry can be considered excellent- when it is used to fuel the betterment of humanity rather than the suffering of others.

Brian Connolly: We pay taxes…so, we already all do have a notion of civic duty. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great outlet for people who have the time, energy, and willingness to help their fellow countrymen (and countrywomen, out). But, quite frankly, people have live’s to live. If you want to run a YMCA program for underprivileged youth–knock yourself out, you’ll probably feel great doing it. But in no way should America institute a mandatory system of community building exercises. That encroaches on the freedoms that we have. And, as an interesting reminder, historical precedents that include an overwhelmingly strong concept of national duty include Nazi Germany and Stalinist Russia. Just a thought.

Rebecca Zandstein: Civic duty, being the responsibilities of a citizen are demanded by America to some extent. Citizen’s are required to pay taxes and obey all laws of the state in which they live or are traveling to and the federal laws. Aside from the latter give or take a few citizens are expected to follow other rules that are not necessarily obligatory or concrete: like voting and being morally just to one another. While America does provide citizens with a code that they must follow I believe that the “unspoken law” should be followed as well due to the positive effects it can have on society and the individual(s). Civic duty allows individuals to participate in activities that many would literally die for the opportunity to do. Civic duty can assist others, whether below or above you in the hierarchy, in a manner that no one else might necessarily have the capability of. Regardless of the latter, America can only enforce a limited amount of written code/rules on its citizens despite that it might be tempted to enact the “unwritten code” onto its citizens as well. Unwritten civic duties are optional and those who view them as mandated have the benefit of, at a minimum, being viewed in a brighter light than other citizens.

Marlana Moore: There are certain attributes that make a person a good, admirable human being, regardless of nationality. When I think of civic duty, I think of those things I can do to be a good and responsible person in context to my identity as an American. Civic duty includes voting, obviously, but voting entails some other duties as well. In order to vote responsibly, you have to be aware of the candidates and know what they stand for. Similarly, being a responsible American involves knowing what your government is doing, and telling them what you think about it. I think if more Americans really took this attitude of their civic duty seriously, our government would not feel so removed from us, and we might instead feel that they are helping us.

Ben Kharakh: I think that America lacks both a cohesive and shared vision of what it means to be a good citizen and the means by which the virtues of good citizenry are to be cultivated. Rather than wait, however, for the government to improve or for people to start discussing what it means to be a “good American”, it’s up to those people who desire reform and deliberation to be the change they wish to see. That means asking one’s self, “What can I do to be a good citizen?”, which is the same as asking one’s self, “What can I do to be a good person?”

It’s important to be a good person for a number of reasons, one of which is that the way we treat others teaches them how to treat us, something that’s easier to discern on a micro scale with a family than on the macro scale with a nation. A nation, however, is just a family with a lot of people, which means that it simply takes longer for the treatment that we’ve taught others to come back around and affect us. But it will, it does, and we are seeing the affects of now more than ever. Not that this is anything new; we just didn’t have TV and Internet 2,000 years ago.

Who’s to blame for this? No one or everyone; take your pick. Personally, I find the question of, “Who’s responsible?” less useful than, “What do I do?” It’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately.

Brendan Kaplan: By “sense” I think what you mean is cohesive whole, picture, or gestalt.

Any position on the matter, even one devoid of commitment to civic duty is nonetheless a sense. We HAVE a sense… is it the right one?

I think the question really is then, what type of sense of civic duty should individual Americans have? How does this sense impact the greater country as a whole?

Things tend to function fractally, and that means the the number one thing you can do to change the country is to change yourself. To determine what type of country we should have, is to contemplate what type of people we should be. In short, by asking if there is a proper type of civic orientation, we are asking ourselves if we think that there is a proper way to act or not.

I am of the mindset that there is. I guess then, that I believe that we as individuals, and therefore collectively as a country, should maintain a set of behavioral standards. Our question further suggests that those personal standards that I think we should maintain are relevant to the way the nation functions as a whole.

OK, so what standards should these be?

I think it is very difficult to predict how any process will manifest in any specific situation. The content may be different for different people. For example, to become more well rounded, a really rich arrogant kid might be well served by working in a field for a week and being treated with little importance, while an illegal day-worker might truly benefit from being prodded to act arrogant and demand Pellegrino sent to his table. The content of the process of balance is different depending on the direction any particular actor is coming from.

Thus, by realizing that individuals can attain balance by acting in seemingly divergent ways, and considering that a cohesive national “feeling of duty” would necessarily account for these diverse methods of balance, a true and proper sense of civic duty would have to connect and encompass all of these facets.

Our duty must be then to translate the experiences of individuals within the country into content that others can understand as of the same process as their own. Civic duty isn’t about symmetrization, as in what I call ‘the new diversity’ whose maxim reads “Nobody can be discriminated against, therefore everyone has to be exactly the same [when measured against pre-approved factors such as income, education, wealth, aptitude]” Instead, civic duty is about recognizing the differences in the individual stories that become aggregated into cultures and nations, and elevating those differences as the welcome product of a highly specialized humanity that has evolved traditions and customs that allow it to live in a variety of situations.

Interaction between these different cultures must be facilitated in such a way as to not allow the willful destruction of a culture simply for the sake of its destruction.

Civic duty, then, is about communication, accountability, and rights. These days, accountability is so often lost as people are reluctant to suggest that an individual’s perspective might be flawed for fear of offending a cultural perspective. To compensate, these same people often become overly concerned with communication or rights, and end up as misguided activists, protesting anyone and anything in their paths.

A further revision then: Civic duty is about a mediation of communication, accountability (consequences/ resolutions), and rights. Those concerned about their civic duty engage in processes that further these three ideals.

Way to go JVP!!

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